


Learning How To Win

by Juvinadelgreko



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: 7x22 fix-it, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Birthday Parties, Bisexual Oliver Queen, Domestic Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak, F/M, Fluff, Footsie, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, If You Squint - Freeform, Medical Inaccuracies, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pregnancy, olicity gets the ending they deserve, phone calls to mom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-03-06 16:28:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18854770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Juvinadelgreko/pseuds/Juvinadelgreko
Summary: At the end of Arrow S7, Oliver and Felicity retire from the vigilante life only to be interrupted by the Monitor and Crisis on Infinite Earths.They deserved better. Here’s my take on what better looks like. Begins shortly after Oliver and Felicity moved into their new home.





	1. Too Quiet

**Author's Note:**

> Right now I have absolutely no idea how many chapters wiill turn up here. For now, just enjoy! I will take prompts for this fic on Tumblr, @juvinadelgreko. 
> 
> I will be watching S8 of Arrow. I’m writing this for my own enjoyment and for the enjoyment of anyone who chooses to enjoy it. Enjoy!

_Prologue_

 

“The Universe is a complex piece of machinery…” 

 

_ Stars. There were stars everywhere. Under his feet, over his head, all around. And space, howling with emptiness. It’s cold here. In some far off space, some forgotten land, he can hear birds chirping, feel the sun on his skin. He holds tight to the tendrils of sound, as if straining his ears harder will make them louder. And maybe it does, because he hears them clearer now, as they rustle through the trees and greet the sunrise...the stars fade, and he falls… _

 

_... _ straight into her arms. 

 

When Oliver open his eyes, he has to shut them almost immediately again. He’s never seen a brighter sunrise.

~~~~

_ Chapter One _

 

“For an ex-vigilante and an up-and-coming tech mogul, we pack a lot of boxes.” 

 

Oliver and Felicity took in the looming shipment of boxes that had arrived that morning at their new home. Aside from what they could fit in their duffle bags and their trunk, they’d left their belongings at their apartment to be shipped. Most of the boxes contained clothes and other light things, Oliver knew, but the thought of unpacking into yet another home was, quite frankly,  _ exhausting.  _

 

“I guess we’ll be eating a large breakfast, then,” Oliver says, but the excitement of cooking is quickly dulled when he remembers that all their kitchen materials are buried somewhere in the mountain of cardboard boxes in their living. “Delivery?” 

 

“I don’t think UberEats comes out this way, hon,” Felicity says, frowning. 

 

Oliver wrings his hands. “I’ll go call that pizza place we saw just off the highway?” 

 

The guy on the other end seems a bit disgruntled at receiving a delivery order at nine in the morning, but he makes it happen. 30 minutes later, they have a steaming hot pineapple pizza open on the counter and cut into the first box. It’s one of the smaller ones, full of Oliver’s clothes. He removes a few dress shirts off the top, and smiles at what he sees next. 

 

“Hon, look what I found,” Oliver calls to Felicity, who’s deeply engrossed in a box of tech pieces from what was left of her office. 

 

“What’s that?” 

 

Oliver holds up his green hoodie from their stint in Ivy Town. Felicity’s eyes light up. 

 

“Gimme gimme gimme!” Felicity grabs for the hoodie; she was, after all, wearing only a t shirt, and they’d had the house windows open overnight. Oliver knew she loved that hoodie. She’d stolen it from him on a daily basis when they’d lived in Ivy Town. “Ah, I’ve missed you, old friend.” Oliver finishes unpacking the box, then moves the pile of clothing to the bedroom to put it away. He is relieved to find that the next box is kitchenware, and makes a plan to go shop for groceries later. Things are just so... _ easy.  _ So much so that it’s almost a shock to his system, going from numbered days to forever. They have just as much emotional unpacking to do as physical, he knew. He knew his wife was exhausted—their recent status quo hadn’t been conducive to pregnancy, and it had taken its toll; if the circles under her eyes were any indication. But she could nap later. They could  _ nap  _ now. 

 

It was a lot to take in.  

 

He moves on to a box of photographs. After pushing through a few layers of styrofoam and packing peanuts, he finds his favorite shot from their wedding. He’s not sure who took it, but it doesn’t matter. It’s a stolen moment from their first dance, and if he wasn’t so in love with the photo, he’d call it an invasion of privacy. They have their foreheads pressed together, noses brushing, her arms around his neck. Oliver can’t remember an ounce of the conversation they’d been having in that photo, just that Felicity had been radiant that night and that the only other time his heart had felt so full had been when she’d told him about Mia. Its frame was a wedding gift, a pretty silver thing with their names and wedding date engraved on the bottom. He places it on the wooden shelves next to their TV, just a few inches from where he’d framed the picture of Felicity and William that he’d held close to his heart in the days of his incarceration. Seeing it made his heart ache, but not for the same reason it used to. Whenever he thought about William, his phone immediately felt ten pounds heavier. He’d made multiple attempts to call his son, to no avail. Calling the number always resulted in some message about a voicemail box not being set up, which, according to Felicity, meant the number had likely been cancelled. So, he’d made an attempt to reach the Claytons. Another dead end. His heart sunk a little farther every morning that he woke up to nothing. The idea of going to court flickers at the back of his mind more and more, but he knew that neither he nor Felicity was in a position to give it their whole focus in that moment.  _ Someday,  _ they say. 

 

That was the oddest thing about  _ retirement  _ for Oliver.  _ Someday  _ had become  _ today. Someday,  _ he’d told Felicity,  _ we’ll have our own kids. Someday, we’ll be able to go to sleep at night without holding on to each other for dear life.  _

 

_ Someday, we won’t be afraid anymore.  _

 

That one was still a work in progress. It may always be, Oliver knew. He set the box aside and moved on to one filled with the few items of bedding they’d brought with them. He’s relieved to find that both their green afghan and weighted blanket made the trip in one piece. Another box contains kitchenware, and his heartbeat jumps at the sight of their good dimpled ( _ not  _ scalloped) flatware all present and accounted for. 

 

The sun is well past its peak in the sky when they’ve unloaded all their boxes. Aside from a break at lunch to finish the rest of their pizza, they’d worked at it non stop. The concept of having a pool in their backyard hadn’t been so exciting to Oliver until now as it was now. They had a guy coming to fix it up tomorrow. But before anything else, he needed to get them food. 

 

“Felicity, honey?” He called in the direction of the bedroom. 

 

“Yeah?” She called back. Oliver could see her laying the quilt they’d ordered last week down on their new bed, and his heart just about bursts right then. 

 

“I’m going for groceries. Any special requests?” 

 

“Mint chip! Lots and lots of mint chip,” Felicity hurried into the living room, “and peaches. And pickles! Gummy bears, too?” 

 

“Anything you want.” A smile tugs at his lips, and he leans down to peck her on the lips. Only, she throws her arms around his neck; and time stops for a few seconds, while he stands in the middle of his new home and kisses his beautiful pregnant wife that he’s going to grow old and gray with. 

 

They pull apart at last, and he promises not to come home too late. 

 

~~~~

 

She can’t sleep. 

 

Which was funny, and probably a little cruel, considering she hadn’t had a problem last night. She’d been exhausted, and the new bed had felt so good, but now, it’s just.. _ too quiet  _ here. She can her the rustle of the wind through the trees, but not the aggravated shouts of angry cab drivers. She can hear the chirping of the woodland creatures, but not the purring and yelping of traffic. 

 

Felicity Smoak isn’t a  _ quiet  _ kind of girl. Because in this kind of silence, if she listens, it’s not just her heartbeat that she can hear. It’s Mia’s. And there might have been a time when a peace and quiet such as this one would’ve taken her back to Ivy Town, but now all that she feels is a little unassuming house in the suburbs, with an unassuming sink over which she’d dyed her hair pink. 

 

She felt cold all over. Oliver is curled on his side next to her, his shoulders too straight to be asleep. 

 

“Oliver?” She hates how small her voice sounds. He rolls over almost too fast, as if he was relieved to have an excuse to reach for her. It didn’t matter how many times Felicity told him that he could wake her up in the night if he needed her—since the onset of her pregnancy, he hadn’t once woken her up, even if it meant sleeping on the couch when he’d come home late at night. 

 

“It’s too quiet here.” He echoes her exact thought from moments ago. 

 

“I can hear my own heartbeat.” 

 

“You want to know what I think?” 

 

“What’s that?” 

 

“I think that we’ve been fighting for so long that we don’t know how to win.” 

 

“If winning is domesticity, then I don’t think you’re too far off.” 

 

“That was one of the first things the doctors told me the first time I came home from Lian Yu.” Oliver took a deep breath and let it out slow, signaling to Felicity that whatever he said next would have considerable weight to it. “That it would take time for me to accept being at peace again. That my body and mind wouldn’t know how to cope with it. And  _ this is  _ peace Felicity, like we’ve never had. Not even when we travelled together, because even then, we were still running away. I don’t think either of us knows how to live peacefully.” 

 

“There’s no one I’d rather figure it out with.” Felicity stretched up to kiss him gently on the cheek. She let herself be pliant in his arms as he rearranged them, so her head rested on his chest and his arms held her body flush against his side. She loops a leg through his. “For now...can we talk? Just until we fall asleep. It’s helping.” 

 

So they do. They talk about how they need to go shopping for the rest of their furniture tomorrow, particularly a couch that  _ isn’t  _ leather. She tells him that the pasta he’d whipped up for dinner that night actually had been really good, but that she’d just been feeling a little too nauseous in that moment to eat a whole lot of it. He tells her that as soon as he has a chance, he’ll set up an archery range in the woods;  _ I don’t want to lose my touch, Felicity.  _ She just laughed.  _ You could never lose your touch, honey.  _ She shares her plans for their office space, for the future of Smoak Tech.  _ I’ll rule the world from our little cabin in the woods, just you watch.  _ Hours of idle chatter pass before he can bring himself to tell her about Tommy, about how his best friend had given him courage when he’d needed it most.  _ I watched her die, Felicity. All she wanted was a family,  _ he says of Emiko’s death.  _ I thought they’d take you away all over again,  _ she says of the SCPD’s attempt to condemn them all.  _ I thought— _ and a sob tears through her body— _ I’d lose our baby,  _ she says of the most terrifying moment of her life to date, when Emiko had cornered her in the bunker. His hand comes to rest on her stomach and he curls his body around hers as she cries. 

 

“I can’t take away our past, Felicity. But I promise you and our children that I will give you the future you all deserve.” 

 

“I know you will.” 

  
  
  
  
  



	2. Have Your Cake And Eat It, Too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity and Oliver celebrate Oliver’s 34th and share some big news with Donna.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m baaack! Enjoy this chapter. It gets emotional, in the best way possible.

For his 28th birthday, Oliver attended his best friend’s funeral. 

For his 29th, he attended his mother’s. 

For his 30th, he’d been brainwashed. 

For his 31st, he’d been elected mayor.

For his 32nd, he’d almost gotten blown up. 

For his 33rd, he’d gotten a life sentence. 

 

For his 34th, he got a morning in bed with his pregnant wife. 

 

He made them chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast with enough syrup to sink a military vessel, fresh cut strawberries, coffee (decaf, to her dismay), and sausage. They’d gone back to bed after that and kissed the sugar clean off each other’s lips. 

 

But before all that, she’d woken him up with a soft whisper in his ear. 

 

“Happy birthday, love.” 

 

—

 

Felicity hadn’t expected to love the pool so much. Though it was a small, above ground one, the previous owners had kept it in nice condition; after one visit from a maintenance guy, they’d been able to use it. It helped tremendously with the back pain that was becoming more and more her normal as her belly grew. On their second Sunday in the new house, she’d sent Oliver to get rafts and noodles. The next day, she spent the afternoon reading on a pool float while Oliver worked in the woods, coming inside only to eat lunch.

 

Life was really,  _ really _ good. 

 

Today, especially. After their breakfast, Oliver and Felicity had put on their swimsuits and now sat outside, soaking up the brilliant May sunshine. 

“If you spend anymore time in here, you’ll turn into a fish.” Oliver teased, setting two sparkling waters on the pool edge close to where Felicity floated. 

 

“What, you don’t want a fish baby?” Felicity joked, cracking the lid on her can.  

 

“No, it wouldn’t have your beautiful face.” He steps into the water and pecks her on the lips. Looking up at him, her previous knowledge from their world travels is reaffirmed--Oliver in Ray Bans and swim shorts was not a sight to be missed. “Speaking of baby, we need to call your mom later, don’t forget.” 

 

“Do we? I’m fond of my eardrums, you know.” 

 

“She’s your mom, we need to tell her. I’m surprised she hasn’t called us yet, new house and all.” 

 

They agree to call Donna later that day. The day passes in a gentle haze of cool water and sunshine, interrupted only for lunch. They stretch out opposite of each other, feet tangling together in the middle of the pool, and read. Oliver’s on a new book every week, Felicity swore. He’d expressed shortly after their move his joy at having time to read for pleasure, rather than just the news. This week he has  _ Outlander,  _ entirely at her insistence.  _ It’ll scratch your history itch without the stuffy language,  _ she’d told him. He liked the book plenty—he finally understood Felicity’s fascination with Jamie Fraser. 

 

Oliver felt Felicity’s toes twitch against his. She was laughing at something, completely absorbed in her reading. Oliver pushes back, wiggling his own toes in response to hers. She gives him a playful shove, her face completely still and turned back to her book. Oliver reciprocates. A smile tugs on her lips and she slowly slides her foot up his calf. 

 

_ That’s it.  _

 

Oliver throws his book on to the pool ledge, launches himself off his floaty, and, careful not to splash Felicity; plucks the book from her hand, sets it on the side of the pool, and dives down to kiss her. She pushes up into his arms, returning the kiss with flaming enthusiasm. With the aid of the water, she easily wraps her legs around his waist; her belly still just small enough to allow it. He kisses his way over her jaw, down her throat to her collarbone and  _ oh how she’d missed this back in Starling.  _

 

“We are”—she gasps as he begins to suck a hickey on to her collarbone—“not leaving this house for a very, very long time.” 

 

Oliver smirks into her skin, “I don’t see why we should.” 

 

He presses his lips to the tops of her breasts and tightens his grip on her hips just slightly. 

 

They don’t leave the pool for a very long time. 

 

—

 

They call Donna over a dinner of Alfredo pasta and fresh fruit. By now, they know well enough to hold the phone  _ away  _ from their ears when calling her, and hers rests between the two of them on the table. 

 

She picks up on the third ring. 

 

“Felicity, honey?! Is that you?!”

 

“Hi Mom.” 

 

“ _ Oh, it’s my baby girl! _ ” Even with the phone a foot from their ears, Oliver and Felicity both wince at the receiver. “Is Oliver there with you? Are you in the new house?”

 

“Hi, Donna.” 

 

_ “My son! Happy birthday hon!”   _ Donna shrieks. “Felicity, you’d better have a cupcake for him!” 

 

“I did him one better.” 

 

“Well, you know the drill, come on, tell me everything!” 

 

Aside from a brief, highly secure email, Donna hadn’t been told anything about their move or the reasons for it besides what had been on the news. This marked their first conversation with her since Emiko had come into their lives. They had a lot of explaining to do, but this phone call only had one purpose—to tell Donna about Mia.

 

“There’s a lot to say, Mom, and I think it needs to wait for another time. We’re calling to tell you one thing in particular.” 

 

“Oh? What’s that, hon?” Oliver can practically see Donna on the edge of her seat. 

 

“Well, we found out a few months ago, but...I’m pregnant.” 

 

“ _ My baby is having a baby _ !” Felicity silently prays for the sound system on her phone. “ _ What is it? When is it due? When did you find out? Do you have a name— _ oh, honey, I’m so happy for you both I think my heart may explode!” 

 

Oliver answers, “it’s a girl. The doctors say early October. We found out back in March, we had some blood tests done after a chemical mix-up.” 

 

“A chemical mix up?!” 

 

“It wasn’t a big deal, Mom.” Felicity says. “We’re going to call her Mia Donna Smoak-Queen.” 

 

“Oh, honey...you’re ruining my mascara.” 

 

—

 

“You didn’t have to get me—”

 

“Shush.” He says the same thing every year. 

 

John and Lyla’s gift had come in the mail a few weeks ago, an Ergo Baby carrier with a note reading,  _ for multitasking. That is, until she figures out how to crawl.  _ Accompanied by a soft pink onesie with frills around the waist ( _ Sara picked it herself).  _

 

No one else knew their address. 

 

Felicity presents him with two packages and an envelope. The first one is a gilded special edition of  _ The Odyssey  _ that she’d been saving for his birthday since her last trip to the Starling Barnes and Noble. Just reading the title tugs on his heartstrings— _ he’s finally home.  _ He vows to read the new copy, for old times’ sake. 

 

The second one contains another onesie—but this one is a pretty blue. It says,  _ My Daddy Is My Hero,  _ across the front. He knows Felicity isn’t  _ trying  _ to make him cry, but there’s a lump in his throat anyway. 

 

Finally, she hands him the envelope. 

 

_ Dear Oliver,  _ the card reads,

 

_ You and I both know that there was a time that you didn’t think you’d make it to 30, let alone 34. It’s a horrible thought, but there’s no use dwelling on it anymore. Because here we are. 7 years later, how do we assess where we are? I think we should talk about growth. Because that’s what birthdays are about. Growing up. You’ve grown so much in the last 7 years, don’t ever doubt that. I’m proud to be your wife every day. I can’t wait to be Mia’s parents together. My love for you is bigger than the friggin’ universe.  _

 

_ Felicity _

__

 

Later, Felicity presents them with chocolate cupcakes with pretty blue frosting from the gluten-free bakery in the neighboring town. When he blows out his candle, his mind is quiet. Oliver Queen has everything he wants. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: JuvinaDelgreko


	3. Don’t Let the Sun Go Down On Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mia arrives in the Smoak-Queen household, and Oliver looks forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look y’all, it’s been a rough summer. I’ve been feeling very uninspired recently, but I felt like writing something here for the first time in forever. So I did. Have at it. Also, I’ve never had a child. I know very little about what it’s like to have a kid, bear with my medical inaccuracies, however many there may be.

Felicity had reached her limit. 

 

It was October 10th, and Mia still hadn’t expressed any desire to leave her mother’s womb. 

 

The pregnancy had been, overall, a joy for her and Oliver. A little thrill had come with every milestone, every step closer to their bundle of joy. Their small baby shower—with just Thea, John, Lyla, and Donna in attendance—affirmed the tremendous love and support that surrounded them, wilderness living notwithstanding. And as much as he hated cliches, Oliver had to admit, his wife  _ glowed.  _ She had embraced motherhood so beautifully, effectively pushing any of Oliver’s lurking anxieties aside. She’s let him wait on her hand and foot (literally, no one gave a foot rub like Oliver). For every inch that Mia grew inside of her, Oliver’s smile grew a little wider, his step a little lighter. 

 

They finished the nursery on a sunny Sunday morning, the walls a pretty clover shade complemented by simple white curtains. Oliver had made the crib himself, a pretty oakwood thing that stood proudly in the room as one of many testaments to the man’s devotion to his family. A rocking chair stood opposite; it was a find of Felicity’s at a local antique shop. She hadn’t been looking, but she’d loved it at first. The room had the sweet, charming character that both their childhood homes had lacked.

 

Oliver and Felicity had made one last trip to the grounds of Queen mansion before they’d left the city. Despite her differences with Moira and Robert’s actions, Felicity respected their memories tremendously. They had loved their children so fiercely, died for them. She knew that Oliver missed them horribly, especially with his own child on the way. He’d confessed, in the dark of their bedroom, shortly after learning about Mia, to wishing he could tell his parents. 

 

So, they did. They’d brought flowers to the gravesite on a sunny afternoon, and Felicity had stood patiently to the side while Oliver took a private moment with his parents. Then, he’d held his hand out to her, and together, told his parents about their baby.

 

He didn’t speak the entire way home. 

 

_ The misery is over,  _ she’d reminded him later that night. 

 

———

 

“It is too goddamned  _ hot  _ in here!” 

 

Felicity lay stretched out on their couch in a t shirt and loose sleep shorts, and ice cold glass of water in hand. 

 

“You want me to open a window, hon?” Oliver asked his wife, tugging his green hoodie impossibly tighter around his shoulders. It’s a bitter October day, a whole 48 degrees Fahrenheit out, but if Felicity wants it, she’ll get it. He’s already turned their heater down as far as it can go. 

 

“Whatever. If it’ll cool this hellhole down, do it.” 

 

He knows she doesn’t mean it. She’s past her due date, the “size of a whale,” her back hurts, her feet hurt, and she wants this baby  _ out.  _

 

Oliver cracks the main window in their kitchen just enough to feel the crisp fall air and returns to his wife’s side. 

 

“You think tomorrow, maybe?” Felicity whines. 

 

“Maybe.”

 

“Or two days, or three or—“

 

Felicity’s lament is cut off by the dark stain quickly spreading across her lower body.

 

“Or right now.” Her eyes flick up to his, round as the full moon. “Oliver—“

 

He’s already calling the midwife. 

 

———

 

10 exhausting hours later, baby Mia wails in greeting. The midwife passes their baby girl to her mama first, and as long as he lives, Oliver won’t forget the image of Felicity holding their daughter for the first time. He runs his hand gently, so gently, over her wispy baby hair, strokes a thumb over her perfect nose and cheeks.  _ She’s perfect, beautiful, God, she’s everything.  _ He wants to say it all, but there aren’t words. How could he put the greatest feeling he’s ever felt into words? 

 

At some point, it’s decided that Felicity could use a rest, and Mia is passed to her father. Instinctively, he cradles her to his chest, hands spanning her back and cradling her bum. Oliver ducks his head and presses a kiss to her head, breathes in her pure, newborn scent, and feels his heart overflow. All the warmth and love he’d ever felt flooded him, heating him up down to his toes and up to the top his head, flowing forth from his eyes as hot tears run down his cheeks.

 

His heart is not the same shape it was 10 hours ago.

 

———

 

Gradually, Felicity wakes up. Mia eats. The sun rises. They begin the long process of calling their few friends and family and alerting them of the new arrival. They FaceTime Donna, who Oliver thinks may crawl through the screen on sheer force of will to see her granddaughter. They send photos to John and Lyla, to Raisa.

 

Thea visits two days later, bearing chocolate banana muffins and a fluffy pink teddy bear with Mia’s name stitched on one paw. Thea’s a natural with her niece, and Oliver and Felicity worry that she might try to steal her.

 

In the days after Mia’s birth, Oliver loses himself in caring for his girls. Slowly, he and Felicity settle into something that resembles a routine, taking turns getting up in the night with Mia to change a diaper, to feed. She is their every waking moment, their every breath, but in a completely different way than the Green Arrow ever was. She is a way forward, not an uphill battle. He makes sure his wife is comfortable, that her body is able to rest and heal in peace after performing the greatest feat in nature. Her back hurts like a bitch; labor had put a ridiculous amount of pressure on the part of her spine containing the implant. When Mia goes down, he massages her back, hips, and thighs with lavender oil. He makes sure she eats enough, drinks enough, sleeps enough. He marks every milestone, ingrains every giggle and smile into his mind. Spends hours staring at her perfect face. _ She has your nose, Oliver.  _ It’s all he ever wanted: to be a good husband, a good father, a good man. It’s chaos, it’s sleepless nights, it’s frustration.

 

But it’s also pure, unadulterated joy.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: JuvinaDelGreko


End file.
